NO PLANS FOR THE HOLIDAYS?

Special Story Time for All Lower Primary Pupils

SCHOOL LIBRARY

READING ROOM

June 6,2 p.m. —3 p.m.

Mr.Stephen Keene will impress you with stories from his famous New Kids Next Block series.

FREE ADMISSION

LEARN HOW TO PLAY THE GUITAR IN 4 EASY LESSONS!

Venue: Music Room

Time: 9 a.m. —12 p.m.

Dates: June 6,13,20,27

Instructor: Miss Katsumi from Japan

Fees: $ 40 for 4 lessons *

($ 20 for members of the school band and school choir)

Register with Mrs. Mary Mi , the Choir Mistress, NOW.

*It is compulsory(强制性的) for students who sing up to attend ALL four lessons.

JOIN THE GEOGRAPHY CLUB'S TWILIGHT CRUISE(黄昏巡游)

June 19,5 p.m. —8 p.m.

·View Singapore's wonderful skyline by night.

·Cruise past Kusu Island and Pulau Tekukor (Dove Island)

·Enjoy a great dinner under the starlit sky.

HURRY! VACANCIES(空缺) ONLY FOR THE 1ST 20 PUPILS WHO SING UP.

Get your consent forms(同意书) from Miss Yu and return the forms with your payment($20) by 30 May.

* If there are more than 20 pupils interested in the cruise,priority (优先权) will be given to Geography Club*

    Last year, when our three-year-old great-granddaughter Kylie was taken to see Santa Claus, she made sure to give him her wish list of toys. A week later, she ran into a different Santa in a mall. He stopped to ask what she wanted for Christmas. Kylie was surprised and let him know: “If you can't remember what I told you last week, how are you going to remember on Christmas Eve?”

    Mary Paul, Milwaukee, Wisconsin

    As my son Mike and I drove to the mall, we passed a Salvation Army Santa ringing his bell. “Mike,” I said, “there's Santa!” He shook his head. “That's just some guy in a Santa suit,” he said. It saddened me to think that maybe my son no longer believed in Santa, and we drove the rest of the way in silence. At the mall, we spotted another Santa greeting young believers. Suddenly, Mike took off toward him. Turning back to me, he shouted. “Now, there's the real Santa!”

    Michael E. Fahey, Huntley, Illinois

    We immigrated to America from China when I was six. Because I was shy and didn't speak English, I had few friends. My days were spent at home with my brother. Sometimes we'd help our neighbor Mr. Mueller pull weeds. One Christmas Day, there was a knock at the door. Grandma opened it, and there stood a big fellow in red with a snow-white beard, laughing, “Ho, ho, ho!” He handed out presents and made us laugh. I had so much fun. It was years later when I learned that our special Santa was our neighbor Mr. Mueller.

    Joanne Tang, Litchfield Park, Arizona

    Why YOUR keyless car could be gone in 23 seconds: It's a crime wave reaching high proportions and the gadgets(小装置) used to hack into your car and steal it are being sold to thieves by High Street locksmiths.

    Car thieves are using high-tech gadgets to break into and steal cars in seconds. One thief stands by a house to pick up a signal from a car key using a relay. The relay broadcasts the signal to the car, where a second thief opens the door. The scheme, which does not involve breaking windows, steals cars in seconds.

    Thousands of cars across Britain are at risk of a new form of high-tech theft which allows thieves to fool bypass the security systems in keyless cars using a relay system to boost the signal. So-called 'relay' theft occurs when two thieves work together to break into keyless cars. They use equipment to capture electro-magnetic signals emitted by key fobs. Any vehicle with keyless entry could be easily stolen. These include cars from BMW, Ford, Audi, Land Rover, Volkswagen and Mercedes.

    When I heard the piano, I walked to Mrs. Windsor's house and waited outside as I always did. That meant she was working with another student, and I was not supposed to bother them by ringing the bell. I stood against the wall and daydreamed what I'd rather be doing. "Almost anything", I sighed dejectedly. I had been tutored enough to read, understand, and even write some musical compositions, but I just didn't have a gift for it. It didn't come to me naturally. I thought back to happier times when I was writing stories and acting them out with my friends, cutting up old clothes to make dresses that performers wear in plays, and building scenery out of old things we found. But Mrs. Windsor had offered to give me the lessons for free, so I felt my duty to try.

    The door opened and Wendy Barton came out. I walked in, sat down on the piano bench and began to sort through my sheet music.

    "Hello," I heard a voice behind me say softly. I turned around to see a little girl standing behind me, eating an apple. But before I could make any response, Mrs. Windsor walked into the room in her usual urgent manner and announced, "Jennifer, this is my niece, Pasha. Pasha, this is Jennifer. Pasha will be giving you your lesson today. I'm up to my ears in something else!" she then exited to the kitchen.

Pasha set her apple down on the side table and slid beside me on the piano bench.

    "What piece do you like best?" she asked.

    "What do you mean?" I asked. "They're all the same to me. I don't know.

    "You mean you don't have a favorite?"

    "No, not really."

    Pasha looked at me, rather puzzled, then opened my sheet music to the beginning page and asked me to play. I arranged my fingers on the keys and studied the notes on the page for a moment. Then I frowned and concentrated to make the notes on the page match the finger movements. I have to admit I was a rather mechanical pianist.

    After about a page or two, Pasha gently put her hand on top of mine as if to calm my fingers. There was a long pause. "What are you hearing in the music?" I looked at her rather strangely and admitted I didn't know what she meant.

    "Like a story. What story is being playing out within the music?"

    "I guess I've never thought about it before. I don't know."

    "Here, let me try and you listen," Pasha advised.

    She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting her fingers dance lightly over the keys. Then, she began to play. "See, it begins here beside some kind of river. Hear the water flowing beside you?"

    Her fingers rose and fell gently on the keys. "Now the princess appears and she's picking flowers from the water's edge." A carefree, happy piece of music filled the air in time to Pasha's dancing fingers. "Oh, but she slips!" The music changed. "And our princess is being carried off by the fast-flowing stream. Quickly, the princess's horse sees her plight (困境)," Pasha continued, "and races to the river's edge where he swims out to let her catch hold of him. They make it to the bank and she hugs her faithful horse and swears she will never again wear princess skirts that weigh her down." Pasha finished with a big smile and then looked at me.

"Aren't you the girl who tells the stories?" she asked.

    "I guess. I do tell a lot of stories."

    "Oh, yes! All the kids talk about them. I've heard about you. Well, all you have to do is learn to hear the stories in the music. That's all there is to it."

    "I've never thought it that way."

    "Let's try another one, shall we?" Pasha smiled and together we played that afternoon, finding the stories in the music and learning that sometimes it takes a friend to pull you out of the river onto dry land again.

    The flowers are blooming and the birds are singing as Melinda sits in the rose garden of the nursing home. She is recalling old times as she waits for her family's arrival. The nursing home has been Melinda's new settlement ever since Thomas passed away a week ago. Thomas had fought a long and hard battle against lung cancer for three years. Unfortunately, he has broken the promise that he and Melinda had made: to be with each other for every birthday. Melinda knew this was unrealistic (不现实的) but agreed to the promise for Thomas's sake.

    "Thomas, you are completely a dreamer." Melinda shouted to Thomas as he dragged on about living on an island with his beautiful wife. That's what she loved about him most—he had a vivid imagination. They got married at age eighteen and began having children right away. Mary came within the year, followed by Thomas Benjamin II, Lilly-Ann, and Joseph “Little Joey” George. The family lived an exultant life filled with laughter and love.

    "Mom!" Lilly shouted, but it really sounded like a howl. Melinda had lost herself in thinking about the life she had shared with her late husband. Lilly pushed her down the long dark halls of the nursing home until they arrived at the recreational room.

When the doors opened, Melinda put her hand over her mouth and was completely speechless. The room was crowded with the people nearest and dearest to her and the warmth and love was felt instantly. The night went on; stories and cocktails were shared and everything was perfect.

    However, when Melinda caught a moment to herself she looked around at her family. With a smile on her face, she raised her Manhattan and called out for a toast. “This one is for you, Thomas, though you are not here.”

Following My Dream

I grew up in a poor family with six brothers, three sisters, my father and mother. We had little money and few goods, but plenty of love and attention. I was happy and energetic. I understood that no matter how poor a person was, he could still afford a dream. 

My dream was athletics. By the time I was sixteen, I could throw a ninety-mile-per-hour fastball and hit anything moving on the football field. And I was so lucky that my high-school coach was Ollie Jarvis, who not only believed in me, but often told me "The dream is priceless." However, when I was about to get off the ground, one particular thing happened, which almost ruined (毁坏)my long-held dream. 

It was the summer holiday in Senior Two and a friend recommended me for a summer job. I was offered $12.25 per hour. Compared with the average $3.5, that was a big sum. I was so excited, because this meant a chance for money in my pocket, certainly, money for a new bike and new clothes, and the start of savings for a house for my mother. The prospect (前景)of the job was inviting, and I wanted to jump at the opportunity. 

Then I realized I would have to give up summer baseball training to handle the work schedule. I didn't dare to tell my coach. I thought of the advice my mother often gave me when I lacked courage, "If you make your bed, you have to lie in it." I decided to talk to my coach by myself. After all, my dream of buying my mom a house and having money in my pocket was worth facing his disappointment to me. I gathered my courage and knocked at his door…

What should one do even if he was poor in the author's opinion? {#blank#}11{#/blank#}

Why did the author want to give up summer baseball training? {#blank#}12{#/blank#}

What is the coach's attitude towards the author's dream? How do you know that? {#blank#}13{#/blank#}

What would happen when the author knocked at his coach's door? {#blank#}14{#/blank#}